Sing Song

When learning the Pessukim of the Torah or Neviim, the deepest and most meaningful lessons are often found by studying the words themselves. because we know that there is nary an extra letter, let alone word or Passuk, to properly understand the message of a given Parsha or Haftorah, one most examine the words very closely. That said, there are times that a particular theme or topic is so central to the Pessukim that its comprehension almost precedes any sort of textual analysis.

The Haftorah for Parshas Beshalach is taken from the Pessukim in Sefer Shoftim that discuss Devorah HaNeivah, who served as the Shofet of Bnei Yisroel. When Devorah assumed leadership, Bnei Yisroel had been living under the oppressive rule of Yavin Melech Cannan for twenty years. The Pessukim tell us that Devorah summoned Barak ben Avinoam, and instructed him to raise up an army to battle the army of Javin, led by Sisra. Barak and his army experienced Nissim and Sisra and his army were vanquished, with the general being slaughtered by Yehudis while on the run. Following this unlikely victory, Devorah and Barak sang a Shira to HKBH—a poetic song celebrating the Yad Hachazaka that they had seen.

These Pessukim have an obvious connection to the Sedra in which we read Shiras HaYam, another Shira sung following a miraculous victory. and in fact the Shabbos itself is known as Shabbos Shira. This being the case, it would seem appropriate to focus on the Shira aspect of the Haftorah. There is one overriding question that must be asked when it comes to Shiras Devorah: why does it exist?

What was it about this victory specifically that led Devorah to sing Shira? True, the victory over Sisra and his army was unexpected—Sisra came to battle with nine hundred chariots, signifying a much larger force that Barak’s ten thousand. That said, there were other wars in the history of Bnei Yisroel that were won miraculously, yet we do not necessarily find Shira at those times. What as different about this battle?

In addition, Chazal, in various places, list the Shiros that were sung throughout the ages, and not all were related to war. Medrash Tanchuma refers to the Shira sung by Bnei Yisroel at the Be’er Mayim and the Yalkut Shimoni includes the Shira sung by Chizkiyahu when he was cured of his illness. We see then that Shira is not specifically related to military victory, adding to the question: why did Devorah and Barak then see their circumstances as an opportunity to sing Shira?

In order to answer this question, and gain a better understanding into Shira, which seems to be the theme of the week, we must first understand exactly what happened when Barak faced Sisra.

The Passuk tells us: “Vayaham Hashem Es Sisra V’Es Kol HaRechev V’Es Kol HaMachaneh Lifi Charev Lifnei Barak.” Hashem drew Sisra and his entire legion into a panic, and the general abandoned his post, fleeing the theater. After they were thrown into disarray, and rendered leaderless, the army of Sisra fled and Barak gave chase, eventually slaughtering them in Charoshes HaGoyim. It seems, from the progression of the Pessukim, that the victory hinged on the words “Vayaham Hashem”, which the Metzudos tells us is a Loshon of “Mehuma”.

The Ba’al HaTurim points out that this word “Vayaham” appears one other time in Tanach: in this week’s Parsha the Torah tells us that on the morning of Krias Yam Suf, Hashem looked down upon the Mitzriyim “Vayaham Es Machaneh Mitzrayim”. Rashi, there, explains how this panic came about, based on a Pirkei D’Rebbi Eliezer: Kol Makom She’Neemar Mehuma Haramas Kol Hu”. Whenever the Passuk mentions a Lashon of “Mehuma”, it means that there was a loud noise. We see, then, that Sisra and his army were thrown into panic by a loud noise—one that was brought by Hashem.

The war between Barak and Sisra now seems to have a direct connection to that which occurred at the Yam Suf: both began with Mehuma. This being the case, it would seem that can understand the reaction of Devorah and Barak. Just like Krias Yam Suf was followed by Shira, it would seem appropriate for their own Yeshua to be celebrated with song as well.

The question that follows, though, is why this is the case. What is the connection between Mehuma and Shira—why is Shira called for when Mehuma is found?

It is clear that the Haramas Kol that begets Mehuma is a supernatural force, a Nes Niglah, and we may assume that this is the precursor to Shira. After all, when one is saved in a way that is clearly Min Hashamayim, it would seem appropriate to thank Hashem in the loudest of ways. Perhaps, then, we can suggest that Shira is but a reaction to Nes Nigleh.

This, however, does not necessarily seem to be the case.

Besides the Parsha of Krias Yam Suf, and the conclusion of Yetzias Mitzrayim, this week’s Sedra discusses the beginnings of our stay in the Midbar. The Pessukim speak about the initial difficulties that Bnei Yisroel face and how each was resolved B’Derech Nes. When we reached Midbar Sin and food was scarce, we were given “Lechem Min HaShamayim”, otherwise known as Mon, which then sustained us for the remainder of our time in the Midbar. Similarly, when Bnei Yisroel reached Refidim and there was no potable water, a Be’er was provided, and became our source of drinking water until the Petirah of Miriam.

The Medrash, in Shemos Rabba, points out an interesting difference between these two Nissim: the Passuk in Parshas Ma’asei tells us that there was Shira sung on the Be’er, but no where do we find Shira sung for the Mon. Why, asks the Medrash, is this the case? Why didn’t Bnei Yisroel sing Shira when they received “Lechem Min HaShamayim”. The Medrash provides a striking answer: Hashem knew that Bnei Yisroel would later complain about the Mon—an eventuality that we learn of in Parshas Behalosecha—and did not wish for their Shira on this Nes. As the Medrash puts it: “Amar HKBH Aini Mivakesh Lo Taromoseichem V’Lo Keuluseichem”. Hashem did not wish for their complains nor their praise, and, concludes the Medrash, he did not give them Reshus to say Shira.

We see from this Medrash that experiencing a Nes Nigleh—such at the advent of “Lechem Min HaShamayim”—is not enough to warrant Shira. The way in which a person relates to the Nes is integral to their ability to say Shira. The Medrash, however, seems to set a very high bar in this regard. No where do the Pessukim suggest that Bnei Yisroel were not completely appreciative of the Mon at the time that it was given, it was only later that they complained, saying “V’Ata Nafsheinu Yivesha Ein Kol”. Why did their future complaints disqualify them from saying Shira now? Why indeed did Hashem say “Aini Mivakesh Lo Taromoseichem V’Lo Keuluseichem”?

Perhaps we can answer this question by taking a look at Shira of a different sort.

In Parshas VaYishlach, after Yaakov overpowers the Saro Shel Eisav, the Malach pleads with him: “Shalcheini Ki Alah HaShachar”. The Gemara in Sanhedrin tells us that the Malach was desperate to leave because that was the first time since his creation that he could say Shira, and that is why he asked Yaakov Avinu to let him go at that moment.

Rav Dessler, in Michtav M’Eliyahu, infers an important lesson from this Gemara. A person attains a level of Shira, he explains, when their Tachlis in this world is reached. When a person achieves the pinnacle of their purpose on this world, when they have reached their ultimate goal, they can say Shira. This Malach, explains Rav Dessler, was created with the purpose of helping Yaakov Avinu attain a higher level of Shleimus, his Tafkid was to be a foil for the Bechir SheBiAvos. When this was complete, when he had accomplished this Tafkid, he became worthy of saying Shira. It was not a mere coincidence that this morning was his time to say Shira, it was that his Tachlis was achieved, and he could therefore now say Shira.

Shiras HaYam, explains R’ Dessler, came at a similar moment. The level of Emunah achieved at that moment “VaYaminu B’Hahsem Uvi Moshe Avdo”, represented a level of Shleimus that was the ultimate Tachlis of Bnei Yisroel. It was for this reason that they were able to say Shira at that moment—they had reached that pinnacle of Tafkid.

Perhaps, based on this, we can explain when one does and can say Shira, as opposed to when one cannot and therefore does not.

The complaints about the “Lechem Min Hashamayim” that came later one showed that the lesson of the Mon was not fully internalize. In some way, even though our sustenance came from the heavens—literally—we were not ready to cede full control, some element of self-credit still remained. Thus we could not say Shira when the Mon was first given because we had not reached that Madrigah, a reality put on full display with our later grievances of “V’Ata Nafsheinu Yivesha Ein Kol”

This can also help us explain why Devora and Barak were able to say Shira.

The Passuk in the Haftorah tells us that the moment of “Vayaham Hashem” came “Lifeni Barak”. Malbim explains that the Mehuma came before Barak arrived, it preceded the battle. This means that by the time Barak arrived on the scene, panic reigned, Sisra had fled and the enemy was in disarray. His pursuit and eventual massacre of the army, therefore, was all predicated on a Nes Nighleh. When this occurs, the opportunities for self-aggrandizement are curtailed. One cannot claim “Kochi V’Otzem Yadi Asah Li Es HaChayal HaZeh” when his entire role is based on an open Nes.

The Mehuma, then, allowed for Shira because it reduced the opportunity for Devorha and Barak to take credit—clearly, they were not responsible for the victory, and they could therefore have used the experience to reach a moment of “VaYaminu B’Hahsem” worthy of Shira. The Tafkid of each person in this world is to recognize and become completely subject to, the Yad Hashem, and the way the battle took shape allowed Devorah and Barak to do so, giving them an opportunity for Shira.

In fact, even within the Shira we see this to be true.

Early in the Pessukim of the Shira, Devorah describes the plight of Bnei Yisroel, which only came to an end “Ad SheKamti Devorah”, once she arose. The Gemarah in Pesachim tells us that these words, in which Devorah seemed to take credit for the victory, caused her to lose her Ruach Hakodseh, which only returned when she says the words “Uri Uri Devorah Uri Uri Divrei Shir”. We can now understand why the words “Ad SheKamti Devorah” reduced Devorah’s ability to say Shir—they seemed to betray a thought of “Kochi V’Otzem Yadi”—but how did the words “Uri Uri…” remove this effect?

Rav Dessler, just prior to explaining why the Malach was ready to say Shira at that moment, notes that the absence of any Rah, the negative attributes which prevent someone from achiving their Tachlis, is represented by the word “Er” or awake. When someone is removed from all Rah, it is as if he has awoken from a slumber. The words “Uri Uri Devorah Uri Uri Divrei Shir” can therefore be seen as mitigating the words “Ad SheKamti Devorah”. By reminding herself of what she had achieved, a level of “Er”, Devorah had merited the ability to say Shira, and she now reinforced that notion in her mind, allowing her Ruach Hakodesh to return.

On this Shabbos of Shira, we can take this message to heart. If we wish to reach a Madreigah of Shira, we must take every opportunity to see the Yad Hashem and recognize our total lack of control over circumstance. If we do so, we will be Zoche to a level of VaYaminu B’Hahsem Uvi Moshe Avdo, soon raising our voice in the final Shira, which Chazal tell us will come L’Asid Lavo.